TCOT Lost Love: Perry's reflections and confessions
by Autumn Rose 18
Summary: This is Perry Mason looking back on the case of Laura and Glen Robertson. This was a deeply personal and troubling case for him and he looks at how he feels about himself and others as a result.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I don't own any of the characters referred to in the story. This is my first attempt of a story/character study for Perry Mason so please forgive any mistakes. Any constructive comments will be greatly welcomed. I may also have a Part 2 for Della if there is any interest. Thank you_

 **Laura Robertson**

How old am I! What is happening to me! Have I really stopped noticing things? Situations? People? Truth and lies? Do I just see what I want to see or am I naive to instinctively believe some things or some people – believe that they are just as they appear to be? Hmm. I think that I have been deceiving myself, and possibly others for some time now, and that I have also been blind to so much – I don't know whether its been by design or neglect or accident, but I know I have been blind. 

I've been practising law now for more years than I care to remember. I have interviewed clients, cross examined witnesses and gone toe to toe with skilled prosecutors for decades and I have always felt some inner pride that I can discern falsehoods, masking of the truth, evasions and deceptions in people quite quickly. Its a skill that you need to have as an attorney, and it was greatly helped along the way by Paul Drake when we would investigate cases together. That man was so good at what he did and he taught me well. I still miss him so much and wish he could be here now to roll his eyes in disbelief at me and probably also give me a slap for good measure – for being a world class fool! 

Paul senior and Della have been the only ones close to me who could call me on my judgement or question me – and the only ones I would listen to. Now its only Della, and I can only imagine that she has found the weight of that responsibility has fallen heavily on her shoulders, especially recently with Laura.

Laura! All I have been doing lately is revisiting my recent behaviour, words and actions and that is why I think I have been kidding myself. Della asked if I only went to the Denver fundraiser because I knew Laura would be there.

On this, I can honestly say that the answer is No, because I had no idea that she would be there. When I heard her voice that night, I was genuinely surprised and felt as though I had been taken back several decades. It was a lovely surprise and I can freely admit that – Laura looked wonderful, although she had always been very striking and dressed with impeccable taste. The years have been very kind to her and it was so easy to fall back into old thoughts and feelings, after all, we had been very close for a number of years and we did part amicably. There was no awkward tension to be resolved there and so we could just be genuinely happy to see each other again. 

As I said, on the issue of accepting the invitation, I didn't lie to Della, although if I had known that she would be there, would that have influenced my decision to attend the conference? Hmm, if I were in court I would argue that the question was mere speculation – calling for a conclusion of the witness, and this would be upheld because in this instance, I did want to go and I did attend – all without being influenced by Laura's presence. 

As for Glen Robertson, Laura's devoted husband – my conscience may be less clear. I think I may have lied to him, and also myself. When we met at the fundraiser that evening, I was in the bar with Laura and he made it clear from that moment on that he was jealous of any time I spent with his wife. 

I will admit that I was affronted by his general attitude towards me, then and throughout his case, as if he was tolerating my presence out of necessity. On one occasion, I had reached my limit of biting my tongue for the sake of my client and I assured him that there was nothing between Laura and me, that it all ended years ago.

But had it? For either of us?

Thinking back, I enjoyed her touch when she held my hands at the bar on the night of the fundraiser, I enjoyed the thrill of hearing her low voice as we talked quietly, and, on reflection, I think she probably did overstep the boundaries when she kissed me goodbye both there, and the night I decided to take Glen's case. 

Looking back now, It was so easy to fall back into old habits as if the intervening years hadn't happened. But they had. Laura was married, and I'm...well... that's a separate matter, and needs further thought.

Sigh.

Should I have taken the case? Of course I would help Laura when she called on me desperately upset, and of course I would defend Glen – that is what I do.

I always believe my client when they say they are innocent, as otherwise I cannot defend them properly, but throughout all this, I felt as though I was Laura's staunch defender rather than Glen's. We were investigating the violation of her privacy and everything in the case revolved around her – not Glen. That was wrong. Looking in only one direction meant that I never questioned Laura – after all, logically, why would she have been involved and then come to me for help? 

I was blind to so much. To how much Laura could charm me and everyone around her; to how much I could still be influenced by the past and the remembrance of happy times; to situations around me that others such as Glen, Paul Junior and Della could see so clearly.

So why?

If I'm being painfully honest with myself, I would have to say that I'm a man and I was flattered by her attention. It wasn't too overt and she is a beguiling woman. She is still smart and very beautiful, and I on the other hand have gained so much weight over the intervening years, and I wouldn't describe myself as handsome these days. Saying that, I've never really seen myself as handsome, even when I was younger – Paul Senior was the one whom women were attracted to most. My health hasn't been too good for some years and I need to walk with a cane right now – it's hardly a dashing, virile look! 

And yet, Laura never seemed to notice or care. From that moment we met again, she really seemed to still care for me, and the little touches and kisses, albeit innocent at first glance, still held the potential promise of more – no wonder Glen didn't like what he saw. I was flattered to think that she still found me attractive and I could temporarily believe that I was the younger version of myself again. 

Whilst I was in some ways recapturing my youth, I utterly failed to see the reality of what was happening around me. I failed to see that Laura could lie to my face and also to her husband. As a politician I would almost expect her to lie to the Press, but to us? 

At the time I thought she was strong and resilient and even referred to her as a trouper because she confronted the whirl of reporters outside the courtroom and staunchly defended Glen and also her own illness and treatment. She was forced to stand there and reveal everything she was most afraid of revealing, effectively abandoning her political ambitions – or so it seemed. 

It staggers me now to realise that she knew the truth all along and allowed her husband to go to trial and begged me to defend him. She put the onus and responsibility on me to prove his innocence when she herself was the guilty party. I understand that the killing was probably accidental – I even blatantly coached her on the stand to admit as much – but I can't explain away her treatment of Glen and of me. I was used – whether she had residual feelings for me or not, she exploited me and our past for her own purposes. She banked on an acquittal but if I had failed to deliver, how long would she have allowed Glen to be imprisoned for something she did? 

Her strength became cowardice and the more I think about it, the more annoyed I am with myself for overlooking so much and trusting her so much. Despite Glen being the defendant in this case, I virtually disregarded him in these proceedings and focused on Laura – an error I've never made before and must ensure I never repeat. 

The key to unlocking the case was in the photographs from the night of the murder. I had requested them on a whim and never took the time to look at them until it was almost too late. When I saw the incriminating photograph I felt cold and sick as it started to dawn on me what had happened. I should have seen the light then but it still didn't feel totally real until she admitted her guilt in court on the witness stand. Once I had heard it from her own lips, the scales began to lift from my eyes. 

It was a tough battle between 'Perry Mason the trial attorney', whose mission was to exonerate his client, and 'Perry Mason the man' with personal feelings and emotions for the witness. I did the right thing professionally but there was a personal cost. 

After the acquittal, I usually have the gratitude of my client, but Glen could barely look or speak to me without contempt. Perhaps I didn't deserve his thanks for what I had done to his wife on the stand, but he had been acquitted. I wasn't to blame for him coming to trial, but I suppose I was the only one he felt he could direct his anger and bitterness towards, and his resentment of me had been allowed to finally spill over. I wonder how he will feel about Laura in the days and weeks to come. How much will he love and forgive her? Will their relationship survive? Will he ever lay any blame at her door? 

I felt professional relief that I had successfully defended my client, but also felt hurt, sorrowful and betrayed on a personal level. I've schooled myself to mask my emotions in a courtroom, and true to form I tried to remain impassive when Glen spat his comments at me. It was neither the time nor the place to react. 

And then moments after Glen left me to go to Laura, when I was really feeling sad, I felt gentle fingers squeeze my shoulder and instinctively reached up and squeezed them in return. I didn't need to look up – I knew it was Della. She always knows how to read and react to my moods even when I don't understand them myself. That touch of reassurance and support was just what I needed right then – she knew that no words were needed and I wouldn't have taken them in. It was like a life raft to a drowning man 

After I said goodbye to Laura in the holding room, I felt oddly relieved about closing that chapter of my life. I had earlier offered to Glen to defend Laura if they wanted me to, but when I saw her again just half an hour later, I knew that I wouldn't and also that I shouldn't. This should not be prolonged any further. She was my past and needed to remain so. 

I wanted Della. 

I needed Della.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: _Thank you so much for the positive reviews of Chapter 1, and I hope you like Perry's reflections on Della. I will also try to write a similar story from Della's perspective, as her story should be told too!_

 **DELLA**

I needed Della. I wanted Della. The realisation dawned on me when I saw that she was not outside the court room or the holding cell. After I had left Laura, Glen had commented that he had seen Della heading outside some time earlier after court ended, and I could tell from his superior tone and look that he expected her to have left altogether – left court and possibly left me. I half wondered myself whether she would have – I had certainly paid her little attention lately and from my recent experience, she may have assumed that once again we would be changing our flight plans to accommodate the Robertsons. Laura's defence this time.

How badly have I been treating Della lately? How blind have I been to her? At the beginning of this case, she had been gently teasing me about my feelings for Laura, which I had ignored and almost taunted her with. If I had listened to her I may have been more honest about how I had been handling the case.

I had been flattered that Laura appeared to see the man I used to be and still cared for me yet I completely failed to understand that Della is the one who _really_ knows me and loves and cares for me _just as I am_. Laura ignored my cane and helped me pretend that we were both younger, but Della doesn't indulge that pretence but instead she is fully aware of my health problems and pain, and is genuinely concerned for me.

I think I resented her attention to my health when Laura appeared, because I wanted that pretence that I was the same man I was thirty years ago, but I can see now that she is the sensible level-headed one in this partnership. Della does everything she can to make life easier for me – and I have repaid her recently by ignoring her, and more than likely hurting her either directly or indirectly.

I was blind to her love and caring for me. I was blind to her presence in my life because I expected her to be there at my side, and she was. I was blind to the smile that brightened her face when I would return to the suite where she was working all day, usually alone. I was blind to all the little signs that show her love and devotion to me – her gentle teasing, how naturally and tenderly she strokes my shoulder when she talks to me, and how she even has my medication ready for me when I need it.

What strikes me now, is that on the night of the fundraiser, Della had my pain medication in her purse in case I needed it. She knew me well enough to know I wouldn't think of it, but she was prepared and took it with her just in case. I'm actually ashamed now of how lazy I have become, that I almost _expect_ her to mitigate my pain – which is entirely my own responsibility at my great age. I'm not a child and I need to be more responsible with my health.

She thinks about me and cares about me, more than I deserve at times, and more than a secretary should – but then we are more than secretary and boss.

We are, and have been so much more than that.

I should never have lost sight of that.

The night she reminded me about those photographs – the night that everything seemed to fall into place, I must have had some realisation about my recent behaviour as I remember how we were talking briefly before she went to her room.

I stomped into the suite in temper, just as she had finished her typing. As always she asked about my leg and I grumbled that it hurt, but then wasn't that because I thought I knew better than the doctors and had spent the afternoon with Paul chasing down a lead and never had the sense to take my medicine that day? How hard can it be to remember – take the tablets every four hours – and I had been out for nearly 12 hours!

Della had my pills on her desk with a glass of water all ready for me – she didn't know when I would be back, but they were ready and she would wait for me however late it was. And it was late when I checked my watch. Despite that, Della still greeted me with a warm smile and checked I had everything I needed before she left to go to bed.

I was feeling frustrated that my latest hunch about the case had proven to be incorrect and I was going into court the next day no further forward. As deflated as I felt, I called to Della as she was leaving, to thank her, and this must have come as a surprise to her judging by her pause. I hadn't turned around to face her but she did sound happier as she wished me good night.

When did I stop being so polite, so courteous to Della? When did I start taking her and her good nature for granted? She never complains to me despite the many causes I must have given her over the years and especially in the last few weeks. It's almost as though I expect Della to be there at my side when I need her and don't appreciate all she does to be there with me – the sacrifices she makes within her own personal life, the times she must have to bite her tongue at the way she is treated by clients, and how much stress I add to her life. I'm not always the easiest person to work with or for, and not the easiest man to love either!

It seemed as though I had no case, and yet Della had the key to the case in her hand and had been reminding me about this evidence for days and I had been too busy to give it my attention. She really is my good luck charm!

As I was saying goodbye to Laura, she kissed me on the cheek, and I would normally respond in kind, and yet, this time I couldn't. I kissed her hands in farewell, but I couldn't kiss her face – hers was not the face I loved or wanted – needed to kiss.

I made my way through the meandering court corridors to go outside to look for Della. With Glen's comments ringing in my ear, my conscience told me that if she had indeed left court instead of waiting for me, then there was only myself to blame.

Opening the door, I was momentarily blinded by the low Denver sunlight but then I could see Della from behind, standing still at the top of the courtroom steps. Despite that watery sunshine, it was a very cold day and she must have been out there for some time and freezing. She was patiently waiting for me – as she always is – and I wondered why I should always be making her wait, and whether one of these days she will realise that I'm not worth waiting for and leave.

I felt a surge of emotions for her at that moment as I pictured how the courtroom had emptied, everyone had left the building and she was standing outside alone – and I didn't want her to feel alone for a moment longer. I could see that she sensed my presence and when I approached I could also see that she was trying to be nonchalant .

As I called her name she tensed a little, and as she responded bravely, readying herself for further disappointment, I drew my arm around her shoulders. Until that moment I had not faced her, but right then I needed her to know that I wanted her close to me, and as I gently squeezed her shoulder, I turned to face her and suggested that we go home. When she heard that, the look she gave me was one of sheer relief and joy and my heart nearly burst with love and gratitude for her.

Despite my reputation in the court room, I'm not very articulate in my personal life, but Della knew exactly what I was trying to convey in that one gesture and in those three words 'lets go home' She knew that I wasn't staying to defend Laura Robertson, that I hoped we were still together, and that my home was with her

I swear that despite any recent evidence to the contrary, I love Della Street. I may not have the sense I was born with at times, nor the right words to show her and the rest of the world, but she is and always has been the love of my life.

Actually, Della _is_ my life and whilst she may think I have suffered because of Laura – my so-called 'lost love', I know that my only real tragedy would be losing Della's love. And this I will fight to avoid for the rest of my days


End file.
